And The Morpheus Effect
by glassesandgoldenbrownhair
Summary: After a mission encountering the Greek God Morpheus, Jake wakes up remembering a very vivid, very detailed dream (and maybe the god's advice of "take the leap" wasn't just junk off the back of a fortune cookie after all.)


(Note: this is all based on a gifset I made on Tumblr. Check thegirlwiththeleadarrow if you want to see it.)

The Librarians were leaving work; Jones's face plastered with a smug expression, (most likely connected to the priceless artifact he thought the rest of the team didn't see him pocket—they did—) Eve and Flynn with their arms around each other's waists, spitting off the names of exotic places they'd visited,(Jake wasn't sure if it was some competition or foreplay— but he was sure that he didn't want that question answered,) Cassandra enthusing about physics (methods in data encryption on quantum something or other— with his forte being art history, he rarely had a clue as to what came out of that pretty little head of hers— wait, WHAT?), and Jenkins having disappeared, only fueling the general hypothesis that he lived in the Annex. A typical Friday night— until it wasn't.

"Cassie?" She turned and looked at him attentively, eyes like a happy, blue-eyed Keane, and Jake knew there was no stopping the words coming out of his mouth.

"Would you like to go out to dinner with me?" She smiled back easily.

"Sure! Let me text Zeke to meet us-"

"NO! I mean, just the two of us. On a date. You and me. No Zeke." She stared back at him, a deadpanned expression on her face.

"Jake, I thought you were being serious."

Ignoring the sharp pain inflicted by her words, he pressed on.

"I am."

Cassie looked at him with a quizzical expression, before clarifying, "I thought you didn't trust me."

Damn. If her response before hurt him inside, this made that look like a pinch compared to a bullet wound. _Does she really still think I think that?_**_ Of course she does, ya big lug, you never told her otherwise._**

"I do. Sweetheart, I- you've saved my skin too many times not to. And with the other stuff… I know if I ever need someone to talk about it, I can come to you." Jake couldn't help but feel a wave of pride as he saw Cassandra's expression shift from blank and hurt to a sunny smile she always saved for him. "So- how bout it?" **_Idiot._** "Or, uh- I mean, would you like to go to dinner with me?"

"Yes."

* * *

_Shit._ No, this wasn't good: Cassandra had been stuck in the jumbled up wish-wash of her mind for several minutes now, and Jake couldn't seem to pull her out- all for a crazy paradox they overheard two college kids talking about. And now his girlfriend was off in space, and her nose just started to bleed- _this can't be happening, not now, not when I've just started to see our future; _**_think, Jake, think!_**_ -_when an idea popped into his head.

Jake was grasping at straws, but since they had visited his parents a month back and his mama gave him Great-aunt Jeannie's engagement ring, who was wicked smart like him and coulda made it back in the big city if she hadn't met Uncle Rick, a sweet, smart girl who put up with a grumpy cowboy- _just like me and Cassie-_ he'd kept that rock in the pocket by his heart waiting for the right moment- _it's not two weeks from now on the anniversary of when we met, but conventional has never been our thing_-

"Darlin', Cassie, come on, come back to me." Her haze began to clear, but Jake continued. "Cassandra, I love ya more'n anythin'- marry me?" Jake looked at her hopefully- hopeful that it worked, that she'd make it back, and hopeful that she'd say yes.

"Wha-" Recognition- of her surroundings, of him, of _what he just said_ lit up her eyes. "YES!"

* * *

They'd been engaged for four months when it happened. He'd noticed the shifts- the lethargy, decrease in appetite, increase in frequency and recovery time of her seizures. Jake immediately wanted her to go to the doctor, but she had made up the decision to no longer be on chemo, or do radiation- _'never again'_, she had said- and it wasn't like they had much free time between dodging bullets and fighting magical villains to go to the doctor, even if just for a checkup.

Her tumor had begun to grow again. Even worse, it had metastasized- a big ol' high school science word that had become the biggest player in Jake's nightmares. The doctors put her at a month, maybe six weeks. That night as they were driving home, he looked in the sky and _the next time I see a full moon, Cassie'll be _**_gone. _**

There's five stages of grief, and Jake sure went through five, just not the ones most people go through. And by the time Jake had finished his emotional roller coaster, he wasn't accepting. He was determined.

For thousands of years, the Rod of Asclepius had been thought nonexistent, even those who knew of magic were unable to trace the Greek god's elusive healing staff. Clearly, they didn't have the love of their lives connected to a ticking time bomb in their own bodies.

It took Jake five days to find the Rod.

It took Cassie five hours before she was completely tumor-free.

It took her five years to be declared in remission.

* * *

When Jake and Cassandra got married, it was in a tiny, tiny church right outside of Tulsa, Oklahoma. Jake's best friend from high school and the rig, Matt, was the best man, and Cassie's cousin Andrea the maid of honor. Baird made it explicitly clear to Zeke that she would know if he was so much as six inches within Andie, after he happily discovered that due to seeing the Avengers, she found Australian accents to be a HUGE turn on. (Ezekiel may nor may not have sent an anonymous thank you to Chris Hemsworth after this.)

After a third explanation of his "job" left their eyes blanker than a fresh sheet of paper, Jenkins just began telling Jacob's friends and family that he was Cassandra's great-uncle. Her family, whilst small, never gave him this problem. Flynn's behavior at the wedding could only be described as wistful- though whether that was due to his considering proposing to Eve, or seeing Cassie, who had become a daughter/niece/much younger sister- figure to him be married, no one knew.

Jake had been standing at the altar with the pastor for a few minutes when he saw his buffoon of a friend, Tyler, trip over his tongue and feet after making the mistake of trying to hit on Col. Baird. Flynn hadn't said or done a thing, but one look from the ex-NATO agent caused the former line back to revert to the social skills he possessed back when he was barely five foot.

"Hah! Cass, you gotta-" It wasn't until he fully turned his head did he realize he was down one ginger genius. Not for _long_. Jake smiled to himself, before slipping to the back of the church where there was a changing room for the bride.

*knocking*

"Almost-Mrs. Stone? It's your soon to be husband."

"Jake! It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding!"

Her amused laughter and soft voice rang through the door, making him smile even more like a kid. _Since when have I gotten so excited from hearing a laugh? __**Since you met her, bonehead.**_ The grin refused to budge from his face as he told her, "See you soon."

And when Jacob stood awkwardly in his suit, in front of rows of family and friends and- was Jenkins_ crying?_\- and when his throat dried up and jaw grew slack and his eyes almost began glazing over because walking towards him with the grace and stature of a queen and the radiance of Gerritsz's 'L'annonce aux bergers' was Cassandra, and she had to be an angel because the fact that this brilliant (mentally and otherwise) woman was his, and that he was hers was as much of a heavenly miracle as any.

(And he swore then and there that he never had and never would see a more beautiful sight, and later it would be his great pleasure to find himself in the wrong.)

* * *

It was a few days past their first wedding anniversary, marking over four years of having known each other, and worked at the Library together, and Jake was in the hospital after waking from a ten day coma. They had been tracking down a rogue immortal, and when she had aimed a wave of magic at Ezekiel, Jake had pushed him out of the way, taking the brunt of the curse. Cassandra hadn't felt well the few days prior, and wasn't on the mission (the tumor hadn't grown back, thankfully) so when she got the call she shoved half their closet into a suitcase along with her knitting needles, yarn, and some of Jake's favorite books, and remained in his room for the ten days it took him to wake, and the two days since (he had a private room, so they wheeled in a cot for her).

The prior forty eight hours Jake had been drifting in and out of consciousness, three times asking if she was a nurse and then proceeding to turn on his "southern charm", and once, with the serious gait of her unmedicated husband, inquired how he died. At her confusion, he asked how else, "would a fella like me get to meet an angel?" Cassandra considered getting Ezekiel to hack through the hospital security footage to save that bit.

When he finally woke up, after the initial reaction of _I am never drinking this much again_, he groaned his wife's name, causing her to snap up from her project and shoot right into his arms, where he squeezed her back just as tight, despite the pain shooting up his body and the limiting movement of the pulse meter on his left finger. Breathing her in- a combination of strawberries and jasmine and something that was all too _her_\- he murmured the words he had to say, bracing himself for the answer.

"How long?"

"Ten days". Shit. That meant on their anniversary- "Well, you can't say our anniversary wasn't memorable. I mean, I knew it would be, because of what I have for you, more like to tell you, but-"

"I know, Cass. Me two. Aww hell, I had it all planned out; we'd use the back door and go back to Rome, see the city, maybe even the Vatican- on purpose, this time- and then wine an' dine by the Trevi-"

"NO!"

"What?"

"We can't do that. I mean we can do it, just not the wine and dine part; although, really just not the wine part…" Jake's heart was pounding in his ears, and if he couldn't see that her lips had stopped moving, he would have had no way to know if she was still talking. Did she- was she?

"Cassandra- what are you saying?"

"I'm pregnant. Turns out that mysterious food poisoning wasn't qu-" Her sentence was cut off as Jake had pressed his lips to hers in a fiery kiss. After a brief pause from surprise, she responded with equal fervor. Desperation, relief, joy and hope all passed through the pair in wave after wave.

* * *

They were with the team in the Annex (they had all relocated to the Annex, and even when the Library was reconnected it remained their home base) discussing one of their latest cases. Cassandra had been immediately taken off the little field work she already did, her mutual concern for their child the only thing keeping her from going off at her husband, whose southern gentlemanliness was becoming a little to close to overbearing protectiveness, and Jake had minimized his long missions especially in the latter months of her pregnancy.

And it was only fitting that in the Library, which brought them all together, the child of two Librarians demanded entrance into the world.

Cassandra's water broke.

* * *

When Jake was in high school, back before his hope to ever take off his "costume" as a brainless, beef headed cowboy was lost (and refound, thanks to the Library and the team and his wife), Jacob Stone used to imagine what he life could be like. Still in an idealistic phase, Jacob Stone pictured himself as the curator of the Louvre, while still making it every year to the Sooner's kickoff games. He'd have more than enough money to take care of all his family, he'd have a loving wife who understood him, all of him, and a kid or two or three, and all his old friends would be dumbstruck that they didn't realize that being smart was cool.

He may not have gotten (nor still wanted) all that, but one- make it two- parts of his picket fence daydream managed to come true.

Jake leaned against the doorframe, smiling at his two best girls. His wife had sat at their dining room table next to Abigail, who was recreating some of Marc Chagall's most prized pieces on a piece of printer paper with crayons. And even for an art historian, the fact that he thought hers was a little better just showed how much of a soft spot Gail was for him.

"What are you drawing?" His wife asked, beaming with the same combination of pride and awe their little girl could elicit, and had, since the first time they laid eyes on her.

"The Dream, by Chagall! It's my favorite, Daddy's as well."

"Well, when it comes to art, he has great taste," Cassandra whispered back knowingly, only for their daughter to bobble her little brunette head in agreement. Jake smiled; as much as he was wrapped around his daughter's finger, she always had a special place in her heart for him. And even with all the spells and immortals and enchanted objects, that right there was what was the most magical part of his life.

* * *

They were in the front row at a middle school science fair, _**STEM Fair**__, his wife reminded him,_ and his mind flipped back to all those years ago before they had even gotten together, to a high school science fair and a talk about costumes and young Amy Meyer (she ended up joining the Library years later, ironically), and how much things had changed since then. And what things could have gone like.

And when "Abigail Stone" was called out for first place, and his wife was cheering like Gail had won a Nobel (she's still got time), and his daughter stood on the stage and thanked her parents -thanked them- for showing her that it's okay to be a STEM whiz and an art lover- that the sciences and humanities aren't two enemies but lovers- Jake thought to himself that nothing, that not one other reality could be better than the one he was living.

* * *

And then Jake woke up.

And he remembered everything.


End file.
